


Hearth

by maryfic



Series: 365 Scenes [25]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kitchen at Grimmauld Place holds many secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearth

The kitchen at Grimmauld Place was filthy before Molly Weasley got to it. She supposed it was only to be expected, as the room was usually where family gathered, and Sirius had none that he cared to acknowledge after Regulus died, and the Blacks were so pureblood it was likely none of them had stepped foot in it at all; making it the sole domain of Kreacher and prior house elves, now languishing as heads on the hallway wall. 

A bit of elbow grease and her large repertoire of cleaning spells made it habitable again, the first useful room in the Order’s new headquarters. But it was still lifeless, even with most of the Order crammed around the butcher block table (and that wasn’t even including the children). At her wits end, Molly finished cleaning up after she’d sent the children to bed and sat down with a fresh pot of tea and a beleaguered sigh. 

She felt more than heard someone sit down across from her. “It’s not that bad, Molly. At least you get to leave,” Sirius said, tilting the end of his words up like a question or an offering. 

The matriarch smiled and waved her hand at him, pushing a cup across the table to him. “It’s just a bit of malaise, dear. It’ll pass.” Molly filled the cup and affixed the man across from her with a glare. “Drink it, Sirius. It’s better for you than firewhiskey.” 

He snorted but drank it as ordered, feeling sane for the first time all day. These late night talks with Molly were the only time he really felt alive since leaving Azkaban - he even found it hard to interact with his godson, having no reference beyond the small child he remembered. The prison had left his own social skills in ruins, so he spent much of his time around Harry as a dog. Which was a much easier way to interface with the world, he discovered, and now spent a great deal of his time that way except when the Order came around, or around Molly. 

"He'll kill Harry, you know." And he wasn't referring to Voldemort as he met the redhead's gaze. 

Her lips twisted as they plotted to keep Harry safe from people other than Dark Lords, the kitchen sheltering their often traitorous conversations. 

END

**Author's Note:**

> A writing exercise in which I attempt to write one small story each day of 2015. If you would like me to write a specific character/pairing/prompt, please leave a comment, thanks! Many fandoms/characters/pairings.


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